Page 108 of A Kingdom of Destruction

It had sounded simple enough. Until it wasn’t.

Now, Aven loved Cillian, and Roran had forced himself to watch it all unfold, to stay silent and let the plan proceed as intended—even when every possessive instinct in him screamed to claim what should have been his.

But Cillian was the better choice as groom. The perfect, golden crown prince. Roran had agreed, had buried his darker desires deep where they couldn’t hurt her. He’d learned to love her smile, her defiance, her light—learned to want her happiness more than he wanted to possess her.

But his unease only doubled, tripled in size, until he’d been ready and willing to interrupt that cursed wedding. He hated thethought of Aven dimming her light for someone, especially for a man like Cillian.

Watching her walk down that aisle, seeing the fear in her eyes… The beast inside him had nearly broken free. He would have torn the world apart if she’d given him the slightest sign.

Too late.

He threw himself into their matrimonial chamber, his psyche torn in two between what he wanted and needed to do and what he knew he must do for the sake of his people. The marriage had to go through.

Too late.

He got there just in time to watch the knife slide into her chest.

“What the hell are you doing?” The sound of his voice splintered the spell, and Aven’s body dropped to the floor. “Cillian, stop!”

She hit hard, the dagger still wedged in her heart.

Something inside him shattered. He felt her death like a physical blow, the loss tearing through his soul with enough force to bring him to his knees. His carefully maintained control evaporated like mist.

Through the red haze of fury, he watched Cillian stagger back, staring at his bloodstained hands with wide, glassy eyes.

“I said, what the—” The words died in his throat as power exploded through the room. The magical shockwave slammed into him as Cillian’s head snapped back, his pupils expanding to black before blazing white-hot.

His brother’s jaw wrenched open in a silent scream as ancient power flooded his system, transforming him into something inhuman.

A literal god.

Among immortals.

He should have known. Should have trusted his instincts that first night when he’d wanted to spirit Aven away, to claim her as his own. Instead, he’d listened to Cillian’s honeyed words about peace and destiny.Fool.

Raw magic crackled off his brother’s skin, and Roran ignored it, bending down to scoop Aven into his arms. All his careful restraint, all those times he’d forced himself to step back, to let her choose—none of it had protected her. Her skin had gone pale, drained of blood, a tidal wave of it pouring from the dagger. With a snarl, he yanked the blade free and hurled it away.

She looked peaceful, almost like she was sleeping. Her dark lashes fanned out against pale cheeks as the glow of life diminished with each passing second.

“You have to hold on.” His magic sputtered to life after too long of going unused. He’d chosen instead to go with raw brute strength, like it might somehow separate him from his brother. Now that choice might cost him everything.

Easing his fingers through her hair, he stared at Aven, as though she might somehow still be there, ready to open her eyes and announce her surprise. Without waiting, he threw his magic into her, willing the sparks and the light to weave into a constant stream straight into her damaged heart.

“Take what you need,” he whispered against her skin. He breathed her in, the scent of roses and lightning and something uniquely, perfectly her. Except the essence of her had gone. Slipping away where he couldn’t follow. But he wasn’t ready to let her go. “Please, little princess, take it. Takeeverything. Only come back to me.”

Aven was dead.

The howl that tore from his throat was primal, filled with all the feelings, all the unspoken words he’d kept caged for so long.

Too late.

He forced more power into her chest, not caring if it destroyed him. He sagged from his knees to the floor and cradled Aven to his chest, her blood coloring him, his brother shifting into thisthingon the other side of the room. The wind picked up and battered them. It swirled in a tornado and linked the three of them together, cutting them off from the rest of this damn world.

Please.

Roran mercilessly poured his essence into Aven. A long shot, and one not guaranteed to revive her. It might not be enough. But what choice did he have?

He couldn’t live without her. He couldn’t even think of a world where she didn’t exist. Somewhere along the line, somethinghadhappened between them.

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